Mission Report
by untilmynextstory
Summary: Following his inability to complete his mission in Washington DC, because of the man on the bridge, The Winter Soldier - Bucky Barnes - begins a new mission in discovering who he is.


**"Following his inability to complete his mission in Washington DC, because of the man on the bridge, The Winter Soldier - Bucky Barnes - begins a new mission in discovering who he is while filling little notebooks documenting it."**

 _ **My initial plans was to post each mini entry as an individual chapter, but I went back and read the rules and guidelines and it says we can't post one and two liners and as the story progresses there are some one/two liners.**_

 _ **So thank you for taking the time in reading this and please take the time to review!**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

* * *

 **1.**

I have a new mission:

 _Find out who I am._

* * *

 **2.**

He…Steve…the Smithsonian says my name is James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes.

He enlisted in the army and became a Sergeant.

Hydra…Karpov…Pierce labeled me as The Asset…The Winter Soldier.

His work was a gift to mankind.

In both lives, I was a Soldier…

Once a soldier… always a soldier.

* * *

 **3.**

It's been a prominent feature in my life.

I trained during it, I fell during it, and my name contains it. They contained _me_ with it.

I fear the cold, but welcome it.

It's familiar.

But I think it's time for a change of season.

My apartment needs a furnace.

* * *

 **4.**

It took a while for them to control me.

I can remember the rusted taste in my mouth from fighting, not wanting them to erase the parts of me I was trying to cling too like gasoline to fuel me to rise from the hell Hydra had me in.

I broke the mouth guard right down to my tongue. I think I bit off a finger too.

I had them on the ropes.

* * *

 **5.**

The redhead – Black Widow – Natasha Romanoff – according to the papers, leaked Hydra files.

 _In the complexity of my scrambled mind, I feel I encountered her before DC._

My name – identity – was scattered through it.

It still left me somewhat elusive – a ghost.

I wasn't going to scour through the encrypted files as, despite my skills…I didn't have the skill set for that and someone could be tracking anyone brave enough to crack the encryptions. Although from what I read, the extent of my missions…my captivity…treatment wasn't discovered.

* * *

 **6.**

My name feels foreign on my tongue. I go back and forth from James to Bucky, hoping the vowels and consonants will smooth my tongue like sandpaper.

I even tried Jimmy once as I can't publically use my birth name. I remember a guy with a thick imperial - oxford - mustache. We were deep in mud - smoke was clogging our airways. He kept calling me Jimmy.

I like Bucky better.

* * *

 **7.**

Sergeant.

Soldier.

Asset.

Terrorist.

Assassin.

Fugitive.

I just want to be…

Bucky.

* * *

 **8.**

I remember my first mission.

It was a man.

He looked like Steve.

Blond hair and blue eyes.

Small frame swallowed by a tan blazer.

He didn't scream or cry. He didn't plead for his life.

He only smiled.

He was benign.

I crushed his throat.

* * *

 **9.**

I debate if I should find all of Hydra and kill them myself.

It's revolting as I know I could do it.

But cut off one head…two more grows in its place.

Plus, I decided I don't do that anymore.

* * *

 **10.**

Memories of how I got my bionic left arm hit me like a freight train _(which is ironic considering how I got it)._

I was with Steve; we were trying to catch the guy who later gave me this arm and the serum in my body.

I was protecting Steve before I fell.

A blast ricocheted off the round shield causing a part of the train to blast off.

I was gripping on a railing. It was cold…I remember the biting wind.

Steve.

He was scared.

I think he was scared more than me.

 _Till the end of the line_

The freight train kept moving.

* * *

 **11.**

Zola…

I remember his pudgy face and small circular glasses and the triumphant smirk on his face.

I'm upset that Steve was a factor to his second demise…

Even if it was a computer.

* * *

 **12.**

I had four sisters:

 _Grace, Adele, Josephine, and Rebecca._

 _All mothers, wives, and grandparents._

They are buried next to my parents:

 _George and Winifred Barnes_

 _Loving Parents & Grandparents._

They're buried next to me.

* * *

 **13.**

It's a weird dichotomy.

I am familiar with the technology of this generation.

On various missions, I would have to use things like computers and GPS, along with crushing a few cellphones, to track people or transfer documents to a flash drive.

But then, I don't know the fundamental functions or necessities of the items.

Phones still had wires in one part of my memory.

Moving color pictures were for those with money.

Things weren't rationed anymore.

I think I gave myself a stomach ache from all the chocolate I bought and ate.

Yet, cars still don't fly.

* * *

 **14.**

I remember Dum Dum, Gabe Jones, Jim Morita, James Montgomery Falsworth, Jacques Dernier

We served together along with Steve during the War taking down Hydra bases.

I met most of them when I was captured at a Hydra base.

I can't remember the team being called "Howling Commandos".

What I do know is that I hate the name.

* * *

 **15.**

I was a boxer.

I was training Steve for the war as we were going to enlist together.

I wonder what would have happened if I never did.

* * *

 **16.**

I remember dancing.

With my mother, sister, and dames.

I liked it – I was good at it.

I found _(stole)_ a record player and splurged on some records that were stored in the depths of my memory.

I couldn't really dance by myself, but…

It's nice to know I could do something other than killing.

* * *

 **17.**

It's March 10, 2015

I was born March 10, 1917.

I'm 98 years old.

I lite seventeen birthday candles for the victims I could remember.

* * *

 **18.**

Sometimes I wonder if I should let him find me.

But I'm not _that_ Bucky he is looking for.

It's still hazy, but I remember him.

Or a version of him.

He was smaller – skinnier.

And he was getting beat up in an alley.

But he is – was - my friend.

Sometimes, I just don't want to be alone, but it's safer this way.

I think it's longing for a piece of me…maybe.

* * *

 **19.**

I found out I like plums. They're sweet.

I can't remember having them before.

But they help with memory.

And they're cheap.

Although, my, harmless flirting with the owner of the stand could help with that too.

* * *

 **20.**

I don't know if I hate my arm.

I remember the procedure. The pain…

Sometimes I wish I could detach it, but I know no matter what it won't get rid of the blood that stains my body (my soul) or my past.

Maybe I need the reminder of who – what – I was and did.

I have to accept it.

Acceptance is such a funny word.

* * *

 **21.**

I remember Stark and his wife.

I hesitated.

But I still completed the mission.

* * *

 **22.**

Steve was in the paper today.

I clipped the picture out like a proud mother.

Because I am.

I'm proud of him.

Happy.

I wished people knew what he was capable of and who he was before the serum.

Although I can only imagine the trouble he gets into now that his world is extended beyond back alleys.

But he did like getting punched.

* * *

 **23.**

For some reason, I can't remember what I wanted to do after the war back in the 40s.

I don't remember having a girl. The only girls in my life were my ma and sisters.

Did I want a family? Kids?

I don't know why but it bothers me.

Yet, maybe it's better I don't remember it as I won't be able to attain it anyways.

* * *

 **24.**

I escaped once.

It was after a parade.

There were flags, cheers, and a car driving down the street as the person waved.

My bullet hit the target and the sound echoed like a popped balloon.

The red stained the white and blue more vividly.

I remembered it was warm.

It wasn't cold like Russia.

No one even spoke Russian.

The English was more familiar.

I was free for nine days.

* * *

 **25.**

Sometimes I wonder why I let them wipe me.

I can remember the pain.

The blistering agony I endured while strapped into that metal chair that kept me from my autonomy…

From me (whoever I was).

I can still feel the heat from the electric pulsing singeing my brain.

I think I became tired…

Broken…

…I wonder when I stopped fighting…

…maybe I never did…

* * *

 **26.**

I discovered I can speak more languages besides Russian.

But all I want to speak is just one.

English.

* * *

 **27.**

The red head – Black Widow – I shot through her to get to a target.

Maybe that was why in DC I didn't underestimate her.

* * *

 **28.**

I went to a church…

I asked for forgiveness, strength, courage…

For a homecoming.

But I'm on the run and I've thought I'll never stop running.

But Bucharest is nice.

But I'm still walking.

You don't run when you're on the run.

* * *

 **29.**

It's daybreak…

I'm okay or some form of it.

I had another dream – nightmare – memory.

It was when they first found me after I fell…it was daybreak.

I hallucinated Steve.

He told me he would find me…

Everything would be okay.

I still sort of believe him…

he was always a terrible liar.

* * *

 **30.**

I remember the words.

* * *

 **31.**

I know it wasn't me.

But I still did it.

* * *

 **32.**

I remember all of them.


End file.
